


Pamper Your Witcher

by Llama1412



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Begging, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Come Marking, Consensual Somnophilia, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hair Washing, M/M, Massage, Rimming, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Geralt doesn't let himself have the finer things in life. So Jaskier decides to pamper him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 516





	Pamper Your Witcher

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time before Ep 4: Of Banquets, Bastards, and Burials

Jaskier planned the evening carefully. They would be in Novigrad for several days for Geralt to get information he needed for a contract. That meant he had time to do this properly, to give Geralt the treatment he deserved.

See, Geralt didn’t have nice things. He didn’t understand that it was even an option. Geralt had what he needed to survive, and therefore, he had enough.

That was not acceptable to Jaskier, who had always loved the finer things in life. They were what made life worth living! So he had been working on slowly adding a few luxuries to Geralt’s life, little bits at a time. First it was nicer wine with dinner, nicer food when they could afford it. Then Jaskier used his own purchase of a hand mirror as an excuse to “show Geralt the value of one” by buying a nice hair brush and finally putting those matted strands into good order. After some bath oils to spruce up the post-hunt monster-gut washes here and massages to treat his muscles there, finally Jaskier decided that Geralt was ready.

He wanted to introduce Geralt to the idea of pleasure for pleasure’s sake. Not because they had to tidy up before a feast or because Geralt had been injured, but simply because they could. Jaskier had the evening all planned out to slowly bring Geralt into a mindset where he might actually allow himself to accept any pleasure Jaskier could offer.

First, Jaskier had booked them into a nicer room than they’d typically bother with in the city. The inn was in the quieter, more upscale part of town, and Jaskier hoped that it would was far enough from the bustling sounds of the city for Geralt to be able to block it out. Next, he lit a very light incense around the room – to drown the smell of human civilization  _ without _ drowning Geralt himself. His noise was extremely sensitive and while Jaskier might personally find it funny the way Geralt would sneeze at a slightly-too-strong scent, his nose all scrunched up and a betrayed looked on his face – that was not the mood Jaskier was going for tonight. He’d had to subtly test for weeks (and Geralt definitely did not find his occasional sneezes as amusing as Jaskier did), but he was pretty sure he’d found the right balance for a soothing scent that would blend into the background.

Then, of course, there was the bath. The largest tub the inn had available was already sitting in the room, just waiting for Geralt to get back so that they could have the inn heat the water and fill it. Jaskier was planning to distract Geralt with food – nice but not so nice as to arouse too much suspicion – while the bath was prepared, and then the true pampering would begin. There were so many ways Jaskier wanted to take care of Geralt, and a delightful number of them involved touching that scarred and battered skin, running his hands across Geralt, to soothe or to arouse. Jaskier didn’t know which way tonight might go – it was hard to guess what kind of mood Geralt might be in post-contract negotiations – but he would honestly be satisfied with either. There were so many ways he could make Geralt feel good, and he wanted Geralt to let him.

Jaskier was busying himself playing in the tavern when Geralt finally returned. Jaskier finished his set, signalled the innkeeper for the bath, and waltzed over to Geralt, who had predictably settled into the darkest corner in the room. He trailed his gaze over the Witcher, appraising him. Dealing with greedy humans who wanted a monster gone but also didn’t want to pay a Witcher exhausted Geralt every time, and it was far too common. Geralt did look tired, leaning back into the wall more than he typically would, but the lines of his face were relaxed. It must have gone decently, then. Pleased, Jaskier draped himself over the table to greet his friend.

“Geralt! Lovely timing, I just got dinner for us. They should be bringing it out about – well, now it would seem.” Jaskier moved out of the way of the barmaids, and they laid out two glasses and a bottle of mulberry wine and two plates of lamb and potatoes. Geralt’s eyes fluttered as he inhaled the rich smells of the food, but he didn’t touch any of it, and when the servers left, he scowled at Jaskier. 

“Jaskier, we can’t–”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Jaskier waved his finger in Geralt’s face. “I had quite a lucrative afternoon here at the inn. This treat is on me. Please,” he set a hand on Geralt’s arm and looked into his eyes. Geralt was always more likely to give into him when Jaskier pled with honesty. “I haven’t had such nice food in ages, and there’s no one I’d rather dine with. So come on, just eat.” 

Geralt held his gaze for a long moment, but eventually decided this wasn’t worth his energy to fight. Good. Jaskier was only just getting started.

They chatted amiably over the meal, savoring the wine while Geralt talked about the contract he’d gotten. Jaskier would probably have to get Geralt to tell him the details again later so he could write them down in preparation for his song, but for now, he was enjoying just being with Geralt. Thoughts of lyrics and melodies and rhymes fled as Jaskier let himself focus on Geralt and only Geralt.

When they finished their plates, Jaskier took the wine bottle the barmaid had left on the table and invited Geralt upstairs. “We can continue the wine and conversation in private.”

Geralt shrugged and followed Jaskier up to their room. When the door opened on the steamy room, the slightest hint of lavender and chamomile in the air, Geralt froze, as if they might have walked in the wrong room. “Oh, right. I ordered a bath,” Jaskier grinned faux-innocent. “Based on the steam, should be piping hot. Go ahead,” he waved Geralt toward the tub and moved to the table to set down his lute. Geralt sighed deeply, as if Jaskier wanting to do something nice for him was exasperating, but he did start taking off his clothes, so Jaskier counted it a victory.

Geralt climbed into the tub and hissed at the temperature, his shoulders relaxing into the rim. With a tub this size, Geralt actually had room to spread himself out, and he gladly did so. Later, after he’d washed Geralt’s hair, Jaskier would join him in the tub. It would be a bit too snug then, but for now, Geralt could enjoy it. Jaskier had Geralt dunk, then began rubbing the shampoo into his scalp. 

Geralt made a sound almost like a rumbling purr in his chest and Jaskier grinned to himself. In this state, Geralt usually didn’t fight the pampering, so long as he didn’t accidentally jerk Geralt out of his relaxation. Tonight, he wanted to extend that feeling as much as possible for Geralt.

He leaned down to press a kiss to Geralt’s shoulder, smoothing his hands through the long strands of hair. Jaskier was incapable of staying quiet for any period of time, but he confined himself to humming soft melodies. Geralt would never admit to liking his voice, but Jaskier was pretty sure that by now, Geralt would be more disturbed by the absence of it. It was familiar, if nothing else.

Besides, who wouldn’t want to listen to the humming of the best tenor to ever attend Oxenfurt?

Jaskier finished Geralt’s hair, stroking through it a few more times, simply because he could. The first time Geralt had ever let Jaskier wash his hair had also been the first time Jaskier realized just how much Geralt trusted him. A warm feeling spread in his chest at the memory and he pressed his smile to Geralt’s shoulder again before ordering him to dunk his head.

When Jaskier pulled away to take off his shirt and unlace his pants, he felt Geralt’s eyes on him, a heady weight that had him slowing down, removing his clothes as slowly and sensually as he could. When Geralt growled, Jaskier laughed and finally made his way back to the tub, climbing in to perch on Geralt’s lap. The tub truly wasn’t big enough for two of them, but Jaskier wanted Geralt to soak for as long as he wanted. Since he needed to get clean too, this was simply the practical arrangement. Geralt had snorted in his face the first time Jaskier had used that justification, but he still let Jaskier bathe with him.

Geralt wrapped his arm around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him against his chest, and Jaskier was more than happy to shift into a lounging position on his back on top of Geralt. He let his head fall back to rest on Geralt’s shoulder and slid his fingers through the hand Geralt had left on his stomach. They lay like that until the water started cooling, then reluctantly parted to actually clean themselves thoroughly.

Jaskier levered himself out of the tub (and if he’s placed his hand high on Geralt’s thigh to support himself, that was purely incidental) and wrapped himself in one of the big fluffy towels he’d bought specially. Geralt's sense of touch was as heightened as the rest of his senses, and Jaskier wanted to spoil him with the softest fabrics that could be found. Geralt’s  _ hmm _ of appreciation when he wrapped the towel around his hips made it all worth it.

“Why don’t you lay down? I could give you a massage.” Jaskier wiggled the bottle of chamomile oil enticingly. Geralt loved being touched, but as with everything else nice, he rarely let himself seek it out. Jaskier had been forced to argue that massaging his muscle before battle would leave him looser and more prepared, and that doing so after battle would help release the tension from the fight. He was pretty sure Geralt had agreed more to get him to shut up than because he’d actually been convinced, but a win was a win.

In the moment, it meant that Geralt didn’t even resist the guiding hand on his back that led him to lie face-down on the softest cotton sheets money could buy, towel unwrapped, but still lying under his hips. Geralt hummed and let his eyes flutter closed, so he didn’t see the triumphant smirk on Jaskier’s face when the bard climbed onto the bed to straddle his thighs. Jaskier started with Geralt’s shoulders, where the Witcher held so much of his tension. He dug the heels of his palms in hard, running down his spine and moving slowly out on each side. 

Jaskier took his time, thoroughly massaging Geralt’s hands, his fingers, his feet until the Witcher was completely pliable beneath him. Only then did he begin laying kisses across Geralt’s shoulders and down his spine, following the same path his hands had. Geralt hummed contently. “I’m going to kiss every inch of you,” Jaskier said against Geralt's back, because he truly couldn’t stay quiet to save his life. Besides, Geralt liked his talking. He was pretty sure.

Eh, Geralt liked Jaskier, so that would have to do.

Jaskier nipped at Geralt’s low back, and the Witcher jerked against him. Jaskier laved his tongue over the spot in apology and sucked a dark mark into his skin. Geralt writhed against him.

“Jaskier!” He gasped.

“Shhhh,” Jaskier soothed, brushing his hands up to Geralt’s shoulders to push him into the bed. “Just relax, darling. Let me love you.” Geralt groaned, deep in his chest. “Yes, you want me to show you how much I love you, don’t you?” In between words, Jaskier kissed down Geralt’s arse. He ran a teasing tongue down Geralt’s crack before shifting to kiss his feet.

“Fuck, Jaskier,” Geralt growled. 

Jaskier smiled against the heel of Geralt’s foot, then bent it at the knee so he could easily kiss across his sole. Geralt twitched against him, ticklish, and Jaskier sucked a kiss against the ball of his foot before moving on. Jaskier sucked Geralt’s big toe into his mouth and then kissed back down the arch of Geralt’s foot and slowly up his ankle. When Jaskier got to the back of Geralt’s knee, the witcher whined into his pillow.

“Dammit Jaskier, get on with it!” 

Jaskier shushed him. “This is supposed to be  _ relaxing,  _ Geralt.”

“A fucking tease is what it is!” Geralt groused, but he relaxed onto the bed again, letting Jaskier resume his quest up Geralt’s left thigh.

“Mmm, you’re sensitive here, aren’t you?” Jaskier licked at the crease where Geralt’s thigh met his arse. It seemed only fitting to suck a mark there too. Based on his sounds, Geralt wasn’t complaining.

Well, not about that. “Fucking come on, Jaskier!” 

“Tut tut, so demanding,” Jaskier blew a cold breath over Geralt’s hole, just to see him clench. Then he moved to Geralt’s right foot and started the process again. Except slower this time. Not to tease. Just to extend the pleasure.

His smirk was not at all related to the soft whimpers Geralt made with each touch. He was so very desperate, it was delicious. When Jaskier sucked marks up the back of his thigh and up the curve of his arse, Geralt moaned loudly.

“Fuck, Jaskier, please, just – put your mouth on me,  _ please!” _ Geralt’s begging sent a bolt of heat through Jaskier. His Witcher, who could fight off a hoard of nekkers and barely break a sweat, was losing control under him, pleading for more.

And Jaskier hadn’t even started eating him out yet. “My mouth  _ is  _ on you,” Jaskier’s lips brushed against Geralt’s arse as he spoke. He stroked his hands down Geralt’s back, enjoying the way the Witcher arched back into him, and slid his thumbs down Geralt’s crack, spreading him apart. “Look at you, so desperate,” Jaskier crooned.

“Please please pleasepleaseplease.” Geralt’s pleas blended together when Jaskier put his mouth on him, licking broadly over his hole.

He pulled back to say, “relax, darling. Tonight is all about giving you pleasure. Just relax.” In contrast to his words, he spit against Geralt’s hole and then shoved his tongue straight in with no warning. Geralt  _ wailed _ above him, his pleas raising in pitch. Jaskier hoped whoever was on the other side of their wall was hard of hearing. Or maybe Geralt wanted to be heard. Wasn’t that an appealing thought? The White Wolf, loudly and openly getting taken apart by his bard.

Jaskier wiggled down the bed until he could rock against it. He pulled his tongue out to lick around the rim, tugging at it. Then Jaskier alternated thrusting his tongue deep and sucking at Geralt’s hole. Geralt’s coherence had broken at some point and his noises were all wordless now. When Jaskier pulled back, he saw that Geralt had deliberately kept his body relaxed, his arms and legs still in the positions Jaskier had left them in. The sight gave him a few ideas about seeing how far he could push Geralt’s control – but that was for another time.

For today, Geralt was being good for him, staying relaxed and open around him. Jaskier sucked a mark onto his arse in reward. “You’re so lovely for me, aren’t you, darling?” Jaskier hummed against him, lifting Geralt’s hips so that he could mouth at the sensitive spot just behind his balls. Jaskier licked circles against it, pressing firmly and Geralt finally broke, his hips moving back against Jaskier’s face and then forward against the sheet under his hips.

Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s arse tighter, holding him in place. Well, reminding Geralt that he wanted to be held in place, really. Geralt could easily break away from Jaskier’s touch. But he didn’t. Jaskier felt warmth in his chest. Geralt truly did trust him.

“Good boy,” He murmured and lifted Geralt’s hips higher to suck at his balls one at a time. Geralt whined, high pitched and noisy. The sounds he was pulling out of Geralt had Jaskier rutting against the bed, seeking friction for his cock.

Jaskier moved back up to lick across Geralt’s hole, dragging his teeth lightly along the skin of Geralt’s arse. Geralt was wet and messy from Jaskier’s previous efforts, and it made him moan against Geralt. “Touch yourself, darling,” Jaskier said, then thrust his tongue into Geralt again, spreading it as wide as he could and wiggling it against him.

Geralt reached a hand down to fist himself, and Jaskier ground down against the bed. Part of him wanted to come over Geralt’s hole, to mark him that way, but they’d just had a nice relaxing bath and he didn’t really want to have to clean off again. He contented himself with grinding against the towel he’d had the forethought to put down. It was the softest he could get, intended to pamper Geralt, but right now, Jaskier wished it gave him a bit more friction to rub against. 

Before he could debate the merits of freeing a hand, currently occupied holding Geralt open, Geralt let out a high pitched wail that could have been his name and came apart around his tongue. Jaskier coaxed Geralt through it and pulled out before he became too sensitive. 

Well, since Geralt’s hole was nice and messy anyway, fulfilling his fantasy really wouldn’t hurt, would it? Jasker shuffled up the bed until he could aim his cock, jerking furiously. He was so close, so very close, and then Geralt looked at him over his shoulder. His eyes were soft and lazy, ready for a post-coital nap, but his smirk was pure self-satisfaction. “Mark me, Jaskier.” 

Jaskier whined and came over Geralt’s hole, his arse, his back. The sight of Geralt covered with Jaskier’s cum, still holding his gaze and lips curled into a lazy smirk, made Jaskier’s cock give a jerk and leave another burst of cum across Geralt’s thighs. Geralt let out a deep, contented sigh and his eyes fluttered closed, as if he was happy to go sleep covered in Jaskier’s cum.

“Fuck, darling, you’re going to ruin me,” Jaskier groaned and leaned down to lap at his own cum over Geralt’s hole, shoving it in before sucking it out. Geralt moaned against him, still sensitive. 

“‘m gonna sleep,” Geralt murmured, eyes closed and face serene. “You should keep doing that.”

Jaskier’s lips stretched into a slow smirk. He could certainly do that. “Any time, darling. Let’s just get the towel out from under you, hmm? Then you can lay down without a wet spot?” Jaskier lifted Geralt’s hips and wiped off his front quickly, tossing the towel to the floor. He lowered Geralt’s hips to the sheets and licked through the cum on his arse again, shoving it into Geralt’s hole and sucking it back out. 

“Mmmm,” Geralt hummed. “You take good care of me,” he mumbled, his words slurring as he drifted off to sleep. Jaskier felt his heart melting and he sucked a soft kiss to the small of Geralt’s back.

“Sleep well, love.” He whispered, using his tongue to scoop up the cum that had puddled on Geralt’s back. He pushed it into Geralt’s hole again, pushing his tongue deep and sucking wetly at his rim. Jaskier took his time cleaning Geralt, enjoying himself. It felt like he was claiming Geralt again each time he shoved his cum into Geralt’s hole. He adored the way Geralt moaned softly in his sleep, totally open under him, entirely trusting.

It was a heady feeling, to be trusted by the White Wolf.

Once he’d sucked the last of his cum from Geralt’s hole, he continued to lick at it, contenting himself with something to do with his mouth. Geralt had always enjoyed his oral fixation. When his tongue started to grow tired, he switched to sucking at the skin of Geralt’s arse again, intending to leave it covered in marks.

Marks on Geralt always faded quickly. Jaskier took that as a challenge to leave as many as possible as often as possible. Geralt seemed to be fully satisfied with this arrangement, arching back into the mouth against him, even while he slept.

When Geralt’s hips started moving against the bed, Jaskier drew back. “Now, now, love, we don’t want to dirty the sheets, do we?” He rolled Geralt onto his back, grateful he’d paid for a large bed. Geralt sighed deeply once he was on his back and splayed out his limbs, opening his legs for Jaskier subconsciously.

Obviously, Jaskier should reward him. He slithered over Geralt, laying himself out along Geralt’s legs and getting comfortable. He sucked the tip of Geralt’s cock into his mouth, tonguing at his foreskin gently. Geralt’s chest rumbled with a groan and he shifted his hips, stretching in his sleep. Jaskier exhaled and let himself sink down on Geralt’s cock, taking a deep inhale when his face was pressed to Geralt’s pubic hair. After his recent bath and now, so soon after coming, all Geralt smelled like was sex. Sex and him. Jaskier hummed in satisfaction, pulling back until Geralt’s cock rested comfortably in his mouth. He hadn’t done this many times before, but Jaskier always preferred having something in his mouth, and Geralt had encouraged him indulge himself.

_ “If anything, I’m getting the better end of the deal,”  _ Geralt had said,  _ “you’re the one doing all the work. I just get to enjoy it.” _

Jaskier sighed around his mouthful, his eyelashes fluttering. That was exactly the appeal. He got to give Geralt pleasure and in his sleep, Geralt accepted it openly, eagerly in a way he rarely could while awake. It was intoxicating.

Eventually, Jaskier drifted off to sleep, still suckling at his mouthful, with his head pillowed on Geralt’s hip and the soft pudge of his stomach.

Hours later, Jaskier awoke slowly when his pillow started moving, flexing against him in time with the movement of something in his mouth. Jaskier sucked around his mouthful, flicking his tongue against it and gradually came to full awareness. Then he sucked harder at Geralt’s cock, encouraging Geralt’s hips to rock gently against him. He wanted Geralt to come like this, to awaken to pure pleasure in his orgasm, and Jaskier wanted to be the one to drive him over the edge. 

As always when he had Geralt clouding his senses, Jaskier took his time, moving his head leisurely over Geralt’s cock. The Witcher was making low groaning sounds now, still asleep, but slowly becoming more aware.

Good. Jaskier wanted Geralt’s memories of this night to be all pleasure. That was the point of this trip, after all.

Jaskier pulled back to suck only at the head of Geralt’s cock, playing with his foreskin. He wiggled until his hands could come up to stoke Geralt’s shaft. Jaskier started humming  _ Toss a Coin,  _ mostly because it made him laugh and that always led to some nice vibrations. When he got to the chorus, Geralt started rocking against him with more intention, and Jaskier’s eyes flicked up to meet Geralt’s. The Witcher’s eyes were just barely open, blinking lazily at him. Geralt slid a hand across the sheets until he could run it softly through Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier sighed, leaning into the hand as it came around to cup his cheek. “Come on, darling,” he said around his mouthful, his voice hoarse from sleep. “Come for me,” Jaskier flicked his tongue across Geralt’s slit and sucked hard until Geralt came for him, arching weakly and letting out a soft moan. 

Jaskier eagerly swallowed his mouthful and cleaned Geralt off before drawing back. “That’s it, darling, you did wonderfully.” He wiggled up the bed to lie next to Geralt. Geralt threaded a hand in his hair and guided him into a lazy kiss, Geralt’s tongue sweeping into his mouth. 

When Geralt released him, Jaskier mindlessly followed him back down for another kiss until Geralt rumbled with quiet laughter next him. “It’s not even dawn yet,” Geralt murmured. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

“Mmm,” Jaskier hummed, nuzzling his face into Geralt’s neck and sighing deeply. “We’re sleeping in today,” he dictated.

The last thing he was aware of was Geralt kissing his forehead with a soft chuckle. 


End file.
